Me, You and Whipped Cream
by DA Bob
Summary: DAR St. Valentine's Day Challenge 2006. ML. Sincerest apologies for the delay in bringing you chapter 3.
1. Chapter 1

**Tuesday, 8pm**

Whipped cream, Max thought to her self. Now just what would Mr Eyes Only be doing with a can of whipped cream in his fridge? She tried to spy him in her peripheral vision but she'd stuck her head too far into his fridge. She could hear him though, scooting around the kitchen, slicing and dicing.

"Find anything?" Logan asked, seeming to sense her hesitation.

Hmmm. Confront him now or later? Whipped cream. In a can. It seemed very… un-Loganesque. A little déclassé especially for a man who, only yesterday, was lamenting the rarity of fresh chillies. When Logan touched her arm Max was pondering the origin of fresh whipped cream, wondering if it really did resemble the heavy fuzzy foam that came out of a can. That was the reason she jumped as his fingertips brushed her bare arm.

"Max. You okay?" Logan looked concerned, as though he expected her to fall to the floor convulsing at any moment.

"Yeah I'm fine." He did not seem appeased. "Just- " wondering if you'd like to eat this whipped cream off my- "thinking a snack might ruin my appetite. For dinner."

"Really?" An eyebrow raise accompanied Logan's amused tone. At least it replaced unwarranted concern, Max countered and inwardly sighed.

"Yeah. Anything I can do to help?"

**Wednesday, 7.40am**

"…temperatures will be rising across Seattle just in time for all those lovers daring to brace the outdoors this Valentine's Day. We can guarantee you won't need your winter woollens but it's always wise to take an umbrella! And anyone looking for love this Friday night should stay tuned for details…"

"Valentine's Day," Max muttered, and switched off the radio.

"Yeah Boo." Original Cindy swept into the kitchen and grabbed her mug of coffee. "You and your squeeze got any hot plans?"

"What's the whole dealio with this Valentine's thing? And he's not my squeeze."

After her smirk, Original Cindy took up her cherished role as sage. "In truth the whole thing is some crook hetro celebration of courtly love, you know, knight on white horse saves damsel in distress. St. Valentine ain't even the patron saint of love. And don't even get me started on all the junk everyone tries to sell this time of year simply by paintin' every damn thing pink or red." OC paused to sigh and gauge Max's reaction. "Still, Original Cindy don't completely diss Valentine's Day. In fact it's one of those rare luxuries that survived the pulse; the time to be reminded that love is essential to life." At Max's snorted look of scepticism, OC changed track. "Without love, Boo and I ain't just talking 'bout the romantic cushy stuff, but without that special connection with another person, be it friend, lover or family, life is pretty pointless. You may have taken a while to realise it with all that hut-hut-hut mission crap they drilled into you but you know it deep down Max, Original Cindy is speakin' the truth. Putting that metal thing in your neck, coming back to give Logan your blood; you chose love over life, over freedom. Now that's what St Valentine's day is all about."

"How d'you know so much about all this stuff?"

"Lesbians are well travelled in the landscape of love. And if Original Cindy has anything to do with it, they'd all be well practised in the act of love too!" Both girls laughed at that, bumped fists and took off for work.

**Wednesday, 4.20pm**

Max listened to the crisp sounds reverberating through Jam Pony. The open spaces and high ceilings made the place seem clear and sharp and brisk. Logan's apartment, in contrast, was quite, peaceful, comforting. The hum of computers and electronic equipment, the weather beating away outside, the patter of keys, the whirring of wheels. Logan's deep breathing. Even the plumbing was silenced in deference to the calm in the penthouse.

"What's got you looking all misty eyed? Or let me guess-"

"I was contemplating the plight of the Madagascan Lemur actually. Terrible all those innocent creatures ceaselessly hunted by scandal hungry journalists. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I have packages to deliver."

Original Cindy merely snorted in response. "Right. So, you wouldn't be interested in the little red envelope I just saw being stuffed into your locker then would you?"

"What?"

OC flicked her hand in the direction of a boy who could have passed for Skecthy's younger brother and stated, "doobie boy over there just fed a red card into your lock box baby boo. And Original Cindy took it upon herself to discover that, thank whoever's in charge, it was not from the little scrounging messenger himself but from a wealthy, anonymous suitor."

"A wealthy anonymous suitor?"

"Uh-huh. Sound like anyone you know?"

"No."

**Wednesday, 4.28pm**

"Max, just open the damn thing."

"No." Max turned from her locker, red envelope in hand, and walked to the drinks machine.

"Please?"

"NO." The clunk of a can emphasised her point.

"Why not?"

"Because it is not from Logan. For all I know it's from you trying to play matchmaker. Or some pervert off the street. Or, I don't know," she leaned in for a dramatic whisper, "Lydecker. Plus, I don't need some whack job thinking I need saving when I'm perfectly happy by myself."

"Why d'you say it's not from Logan?"

"Because Logan would not come all the way down here to ask some skanky kid to stuff a red envelope in my locker. It's not his style. And besides, he doesn't even realise it's Valentine's Day." This last was soaked with accepted disappointment. The sound made Original Cindy's heart yearn for her friend and her hands shake in eagerness to wring her neck.

"Of course Logan would come all the way down here for you. He LIKES you."

Max snorted and bent down to tie her sneaker. "Yeah, cos he pops in all the time-"

"Hey Logan!" At OC's call, Max slowly stood up straight again, to look Originak Cindy in the eye.

"Yeah, right. You really expect me to fall for that?"

"For what?"

"Calling out his name so I'll jump around and you can proclaim this as firm evidence that I love Logan-"

"Hey Cindy. Max."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wednesday, 4.31pm**

Logan's rich voice slid over them both and Original Cindy almost collapsed from holding back her laughter as Max's eyes bulged out of her head and the colour drained from her face. Turning around slowly, Max met Logan's bemused look as a rosy stain blossomed on her pale cheeks.

"Logan… I- uh… hey."

"Hey."

"What, what are you doing here?" Unsure of how much he had heard, Max decided it was probably best to pretend nothing had happened. To her immense disappointment and great relief, Logan seemed to concur.

"I, uh, was in the neighbourhood. Wondered if you fancied coming over for dinner tonight." At Max's continuous blank look he stumbled on. "Thought I'd save the phone bill and ask you in person. If you've got plans though, or-"

"Are you deaf?" Original Cindy couldn't help herself as she stood gaping at the two fumbling idiots before her. "They say love is blind but-" in a vague attempt to temporarily save herself from Max's death glare OC left that sentence hanging and moved away from the pair mumbling "not like Max ever makes plans with anyone unless she sure you ain't available Mr 'In The Neighbourhood'."

Logan studied Max's reactions. The murderous stare was quickly superseded by wide-eyed disbelief which in turn was whitewashed with indifference as her vision swung from OC back to him. He hadn't missed her words as he rolled towards the two friends. He had caught Max's casual use of the L-word in reference to him. He had also caught her tone and presumed this was an on-going topic between her and Cindy. Left to their own devices, Logan's insecurities took over and he was unwilling to risk hearing, in a public place no less, that the conversation was a joke between the two women. As such he decided to confront her about it later when they were alone together. Or, never.

"You're free to come over for dinner then?"

"So it would seem. What time?"

"Eight?"

"Sounds good."

"See you later then."

"Yep, see you later."

They both paused for a minute, unwilling to leave the company of the other so soon. Eventually, Logan nodded and swiftly, spun around and glided away. Max was left alone to stare at the red envelope sat innocently on the bench beside her.

**Wednesday , 8.20pm**

"Hey Bling!" Bling turned on the threshold of the elevator and smiled at his friend.

"Hey Max. How are you?"  
"Fine and dandy. How are you? Those chocolates for anyone special?" Bling was amused by Max's unabashedly direct question and decided to return the nosiness.

"Yes, actually. Someone very special. How about you? Any romantic plans for Friday night?"

Max stopped at that. Suddenly she realised it was entirely possible she would be spending Valentine's Day, or more importantly, Valentine's evening and Valentine's night, alone. Not that she should even care. She had only found out this morning what the day meant. She'd probably, unknowingly, been alone for every Valentine's Day in her life. Yet it was unpleasant to have to admit that this year, when she was the closest she'd ever come to feeling normal, she would be spending the day reserved for celebrating the most human of emotions alone. Original Cindy was revved up about an all-girl singles night at a new club, QT's, Herbal was taking his woman out for a meal and Sketchy was on best boyfriend behaviour after Natalie found eye shadow on his trousers. Kendra and Walter had been banned from her mind until they could sit in a room together without it requiring an NC-17 rating. And then there was Logan. It seemed Logan had no plans for Valentine's Day at all let alone ones that included her, that can of whipped cream, a blindfold and-

"Max?"

"Er, no. No plans." She pushed a grin onto her face frantically trying to find something witty to say. "You know me, the indomitable lone warrior."

Bling was slightly saddened by Max's answer. Her resignation seemed misplaced on someone so young and alive. Someone on her way up to meet a man who could take her (and his own) loneliness away if it weren't for stubborn fear and pride.

"Logan not invited you over?"

"He- No. He probably doesn't even know what day Friday is. Besides, it's not like we've any reason to spend it together. He may be busy." Was she making excuses for him?

"Max," Bling studied the woman before him, wondering how best to put this, "I very much doubt Logan would have plans that don't include you. However, I can very much believe that he may not have made any plans at all. Doesn't stop you from making plans to spend Friday with Logan. Valentine's Day is just as much about celebrating friendship as it is about romance."

"What Original Cindy said too," Max mumbled.

"It must be true then!" They both smirked and Max's mind began to wonder why she presumed Logan should be the one to invite her over for a St. Valentine's celebration. Wasn't she just enforcing the man-on-horse, damsel-in-distress scenario Original Cindy warned her about? Plans began to formulate in her head and a sneaky smile spread across her features. First, though, she had some investigating to do.

"Don't think you avoided my question by the way. Tell me who the chocolates are for," Max teased, eliciting a resigned sigh from Bling.

**Wednesday, 8.30pm**

"So."

"So?" Logan glanced up from the carrots he was slicing.

"You got anything, lined up? For us? This weekend? Eyes Only stuff I mean. Of course." _Shut up Max!_ she cursed herself. When had she become so talkative?

Logan paused in his movements, unable to grasp what Max was trying to say or pretending to not say.

"No, not at the moment. All quite on the Western front." He smiled slightly and wondered if she understood the phrase, if she knew its origin, had read the book or seen the film. An urge to educate her in the rich tapestry of cultural heritage ignited in his heart for a moment. Focus Logan.

"Why you got plans?"

"No! I mean, not really, no. You?"

"Er, no." Logan's confusion spread to suspicion at Max's quick grin of satisfaction. "What's going on Max?"

"Going on? Nothing. Nothing's 'going on' Logan. Don't be so paranoid." With that Max stood up and sauntered over to his fridge. Trying to look as nonchalant as possible she pulled open the door and bent over, meticulously scanning each shelf for the cream. This is what she had come to. Millions of taxpayers' dollars for her skills to be deployed in searching out canned goods. In her defence, she was part feline, and sensing cream was probably written into her genetic code. She located the can pushed to the back behind a box of strawberries. Strawberries! Strawberries… and cream?

"What's for dessert?"

"Max, we haven't even eaten the main course yet." Although he sounded exasperated his dimples gave him away. If she hadn't realised it before, his reaction was a blatant sign of how much he enjoyed her appetite. Images of Logan employing the can of whipped cream to enjoy a combination of appetites entered her head.

Logan watched Max's head just visible above the open door of the refrigerator and wanted more than anything to ask her what she was thinking. "You going to eat something out of there or you just basking in the cold air?" He could have sworn he just made Max jump.


	3. Chapter 3

**Wednesday, 9.45pm **

They sat facing one another, squaring off. Between them sat the geometrics of the chess board over which their arms and hands occasionally swept in graceful arcs. There were rules and boundaries and Logan felt safe.

"So, Max." Logan placed his bishop in challenge to Max's queen: take my clergy I'll take your crown.

"Yeah?"

"You and Cindy seemed to be having a pretty heated discussion when I-"

Max was contemplating the as yet untouched can of cream in Logan's fridge and puzzling over the Valentine's card stuffed in her jacket pocket. She felt confused and not a little frustrated. Action had to be taken.

"Logan."

"Yes?" Figuring Max was going to pre-empt his question or tell him to drop it, he let her interrupt.

"Logan, we're friends right? I mean, we're close and everything?"

"Er, yes." How did she always manage to perplex him so easily? He cleared his throat. "Yes, of course."

"But it's special, right? I mean, you don't have loads of other women hanging out in your apartment at all hours of the night and day. Do you?" Max tried not to cringe; desperation seemed to have smothered any hint of rhetoric in her voice.

"Wha-? Max! No. I-" Logan felt like a cartoon character, paused mid-air as the ground is suddenly rubbed out beneath his feet.

"So if there was something to celebrate like a special day we'd most likely do that with each other. Together. As friends. Right?"

"I guess."

"I mean, no need for it to be anything more or less than two friends hanging out. And no need for lengthy analyses into what it means or doesn't mean or could mean. It could just be simple, right? An unspoken agreement?"

"What are you talking about Max?"

"You Logan. And me. And," not knowing how to continue that sentence without actually saying the V-word, Max floundered and sighed. Suddenly she was very keen to change topics. "What were you saying before?"

Logan was officially lost. She was talking about their relationship? About him and her and… and what he was saying before… what he had heard her saying to Cindy? His jaw dropped open. Was Max trying to tell him that she l-

"Logan?"

Logan sat dumbfounded, feeling as though he was loosing his grip on his emotions and the conversation and everything he had convinced himself was impossible, his hands gripped his wheels, knuckles turning white.

"Logan…" The spaced-out look did not suit Logan Cale.

"You mean you," he couldn't say it, he couldn't breathe "what I heard- what you said- do you-"

"Logan! What are you mumbling about?"

"What?"

"Yes, 'what' Logan. What were you talking about?"

"About? I uh, I was talking about what you said. To Original Cindy. In Jam Pony."

"Oh. That." Uh-oh. Max bit her lip and shrugged. Out of the frying pan (of her own making) into the fire (also of her own making). "Well I was talking about something else."

"What were you talking about?" Logan could feel his heart beating as though he had just been on a run.

"Our friendship, you know, and unspoken agreements." Logan still looked puzzled and slightly flushed. "How great it is that we don't need to ask each other a whole bunch of questions about stuff all the time. We can just… be. Sign of true friendship, comfortable silence."

"Oh." Logan felt flummoxed as Max calmly reached over the board and moved her Queen. An evil grin shot towards him.

"Check."

**Thursday, 4.17am**

The red numbers of the alarm clock glared angrily at Max. She sighed. It was no good. She couldn't sleep and she had no idea what to do with Logan for Valentine's Day. Or rather she had plenty of ideas of what to do with Logan or to Logan or for Logan just no idea if he wanted to do them with her. Focus Max! Get your mind out of bed with Logan and concentrate. Valentine's Day. A celebration of friendship.

**Thursday, 4.18am**

Not thinking about Logan, not thinking about Logan. She ran her hands along the cool sheets beside her. Cool sheets. They felt a little bobbly. There was a hole further along as well. Maybe she should try to find some new sheets. Maybe she'd luck out and find some new, smooth cotton sheets. Or silk. Silk sheets would be nice.

**Thursday, 4.19am**

Of course, if Logan has silk sheets on his bed he may not want whipped cream near them. Max contemplated this future complication before cursing herself. She sprung from her bed muttering, "stupid trying to sleep when I don't sleep and have better things to be doing than thinking about linen and stupid, obtuse men." Quickly dressing she glided through the apartment to her bike. With a quick caress to the sleek black body she kicked back the stand and wheeled her baby out to the elevator.

**Thursday, 7.00am**

He could hear banging. It sounded like someone at his front door. A delivery man maybe, which seemed odd to him. Delivery men still knocked on doors didn't they? Or delivery-women. Delivery-people, he supposed. They still knocked on doors anyway, so why was it odd that one was one knocking on his door? When the knocking stopped and the door opened he remembered. He lived in a penthouse. With doormen and mailboxes downstairs in the lobby. So who was-

"Logan. Logan!" Oh. Max. Of course. Well, she was a delivery person. He had barely enough time to sit up in his bed when she appeared at his bedroom door.

"Max?" Through sleep bleary, unfocused eyes, she looked beautiful. An impressionist's vision of beauty standing at his bedroom door. Beautiful.

"Logan."

"Max." He blinked owlishly and she moved towards the bed, handing him his glasses.

"Do you know what day tomorrow is Logan?" Conditioned through years of male:female interaction, Logan's brain became frantic.

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow is our… anniversary?" Max shook her head and Logan rubbed his fingers across his stubble. "My birthday? No. Sorry. Late night. Your birthday? You should have told me what day you picked Max." At Max's insistent head shaking he tried again. "Um… it's February… the… the… thirteen, fourteenth… oh!" Logan managed to extend the exclamation over several long seconds as realisation dawned. Growing impatient at his gormless expression Max jumped in.

"It's Valentine's Day Logan and having been lectured by both Original Cindy and Bling on the matter, who by the way has a 'very special' lady friend called Maria who adores chocolate so you should show him how to make that delicious chocolate thingy you made for me last week, anyway having been educated by both of them in the finer subtleties of what St Valentine's day should mean and can mean and having never done this before I was thinking that if you're not doing anything tomorrow night maybewecouldperhapsspendittogetherifyouwant."

Max was looking at him with such anticipation and hope and vulnerability Logan felt himself freeze. She can't be asking an old, self-involved paraplegic to spend Valentine's night with her, can she?

"Um," he cringed at his own ineptitude. He could have sworn he used to be suave and dashing. Was it Max making his brain stutter or was it one more thing damaged by the bullet?

"If you got plans that's cool. I was just wondering…" Max's voice fell away as much from the embarrassment of rejection as the embarrassment of just what exactly she had been wondering about Logan recently.

"No! I mean, no. I don't have any plans. You," Logan licked his lips and swallowed, "you want to spend Valentine's night with me?"

"Well, yeah."

The night. She wanted to spend Valentine's night with him. Logan's mind couldn't compute the possibilities and began to run in safe mode. Valentine's Day meant roses, red roses. He needed red roses. His whole mind focused in on the thorny flower. How difficult was it to get red roses in post-pulse Seattle? When was the last time he had bought red roses? More to the point, did Max even want red roses? What was he thinking! Definitely Max messing with his brain, not the bullet. He didn't know whether to sigh with relief or frustration.

"Logan?"

"Yeah. Okay. Good. Are you sure?" She must have tons of better things to do on Friday night.

"Would I have asked you if I wasn't sure?" Max felt slightly irritated. What was up with him today? She melted a bit though, taking in Logan's fluffy, tousled hair and the sheet pulled up high over his naked chest. The bewilderment clear on his face. His face just above his naked chest. "I haven't figured out what we should do yet but-

"Leave that up to me."

"Really?" Max's unruly mind flittered to the second shelf in his fridge to pick up the can of whipped cream and returned to the four inches of flesh peeking above the bedcovers.

"Yeah. It's the least I can do considering I didn't even realise what the date was and," Logan realised he was acting like a guiltily forgetful boyfriend. What was his role here? "Well, you asked me so I, I'll, I don't mind organising the evening." What was he letting himself in for? He didn't even know to what extent they were celebrating Valentine's Day. "Any ideas on what we should do?" His eyes settled onto Max as she slowly licked her lips, staring someway below Logan's eyes.

"Max?"

"Oh I have some ideas." No one ever said Max wasn't a focused girl. "About Valentine's night, of course. I mean on what we can do. Together. Dinner?"

"We always have dinner." Maybe that's all she wanted? Maybe this isn't such a big thing for her.

"Right." Breath Max, breath. "Shall we go out?"

"Out?"

"Yeah, to a restaurant or bowling or something."

"Out." Logan's mind was whirring with ideas. His lips formed into a wide smile as a plan formulated in his head. "Right, out." He grinned, his fingers itching to get to the keyboard and make arrangements, to check his e-mails and ensure everything was ship-tight so he could focus on Friday night.

"So." Max couldn't help but be excited by Logan's sudden enthusiasm.

"So." (Logan).

"Yeah." (Max).

"Yeah. Dinner tonight?" (Logan).

"Cool." (Max).

"Eight?" (Logan).

"Yeah." (Max).

"Right." (Logan).

"Late." (Max).

"Right. Later." (Logan).

Max sat still for a moment smiling at Logan smiling at her. Then she rose slowly from his bed and walked out of the room. Once outside his room she felt her legs tremble slightly and her stomach whoop. As she had risen from the bed her senses kicked in and realisation had suddenly hit her. She was sitting on Logan's bed. While Logan was in it, very much not wearing a shirt. And possibly not wearing a whole host of other clothing items. But best of all - he had cotton sheets.


End file.
